


Audition Tape

by alisvolatpropiis



Series: You Look Familiar [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Porn, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Comeplay, Facials, Fluff and Smut, M/M, POV Derek, Porn Star Stiles, Rimming, Sex Tapes, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski, derek needs a good porn name
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2018-02-10 14:04:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2027838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alisvolatpropiis/pseuds/alisvolatpropiis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles checks the camera angle one more time before pressing a button and walking over to the nightstand, grabbing a bottle of expensive-looking lube. There’s a small red light on the front of the camera now, and yeah, they’re doing this.</p><p>Stiles smiles and settles back onto his lap, giving him a long, urgent kiss as he melts into him. He pulls away eventually, licking his lips, tracing his nails lightly through his beard. “So beautiful,” he murmurs, loud enough for the camera, but Derek knows he means it just for him, can feel it the way Stiles’ eyes dart across his face, in the way it makes his heart ache. Stiles leans in to nuzzle his neck, nibbles at his earlobe and whispers, soft enough for just Derek to hear, “I still can’t believe that you’re mine.”</p><p>“Yours,” Derek purrs into his hair, hoping the camera picks it up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Audition Tape

**Author's Note:**

> Super smutty part 3 to [You Look Familiar](http://archiveofourown.org/series/121236). 
> 
> In which Derek and Stiles make an audition tape. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and for your wonderful comments!! Enjoy!

“How do you want to do this?”

Under normal circumstances (as if anything to do with Stiles could ever be normal circumstances for Derek, life-altering force of nature that the man is) that question would thrill him, exhilarate him, turn him on even more. And it does, but it also fills him with some trepidation, because Stiles asks him as he sets up an expensive-looking digital video camera on a tripod, angling it towards the bed.

They’re both in their underwear, having stripped earlier when they were still on the couch, hands running slowly over each other, mouths wet and warm, giddy with new love.

Now Derek’s sitting on Stiles’ bed, cock tenting his boxer briefs because Stiles is shirtless and hard too, eyes holding Derek’s, fingers stopping their movement on the camera. It really hits Derek then, that they’re doing this: they’re going to film their first time having sex. And show it to Stiles' producers. If they like what they see, they’ll be doing this regularly, professionally, letting the world see just how much they love each other. Derek still wants to, is still incredibly turned on and excited by what they’ve decided, but it’s still a little nerve-wracking, the camera making it all very real.

“You okay,” Stiles asks, concerned that Derek hasn’t answered his question. He leaves the camera and moves to the bed to straddle him, casually throwing his long, lean legs around his waist, hands resting on the wide spread of his shoulders. “We don’t have to do this if you’re having second thoughts.”

“I know. I’m not. I’m just…taking my time letting all of this sink in. How do _you_ want to do this,” he asks, deciding that letting Stiles call the shots here is the best way to go. He is the professional, after all.

Stiles hums and grinds against him, the feel of him hard against his cock calming him down even while it excites him, making it all sink in in the best way. “I want you to fuck me,” Stiles decides, mouthing at Derek’s earlobe when he says it. “That sound good to you, gorgeous?”

Derek’s throat goes dry as he swallows hard and nods, unable to speak, slightly lightheaded from the rush of blood to his cock. He mouths at Stiles’ collarbone, at the hard little knob just to the left of the hollow of his throat. “Yeah,” he finally manages to croak out, his breath hot and wet against his skin. “I’ve been dying to,” he admits, needing Stiles to know just how badly he wants him.

He smiles and kisses him before jumping back up and over to the camera. “Just, uh, remember to pull out, okay,” he says, winking at him. It makes Derek blush, makes his dick grow even harder. Stiles checks the camera angle one more time before pressing a button and walking over to the nightstand, grabbing a bottle of expensive-looking lube. There’s a small red light on the front of the camera now, and yeah, they’re doing this.

Stiles smiles and settles back onto his lap, giving him a long, urgent kiss as he melts into him. He pulls away eventually, licking his lips, tracing his nails lightly through his beard. “So beautiful,” he murmurs, loud enough for the camera, but Derek knows he means it just for him, can feel it the way Stiles’ eyes dart across his face, in the way it makes his heart ache. Stiles leans in to nuzzle his neck, nibbles at his earlobe and whispers, soft enough for just Derek to hear, “I still can’t believe that you’re mine.”

“Yours,” Derek purrs into his hair, hoping the camera picks it up. Stiles bites at his neck just hard enough to make him gasp, cock twitching and leaking against the straining fabric of his boxers. He doesn’t give a damn about the camera any more, intent only on the feel of Stiles’ hard body against his, the little moans he’s pouring into his ear, the way his slender thighs squeeze harder around him when he stands up, lifting him easily. He slides Stiles’ underwear off as he lowers him to the bed, pulling his own off before falling to his knees on the floor between Stiles’ legs where they hang off the edge.

He kisses the insides of his knees, glancing up to watch the affectionate smile he gives him when he does. “Hand me the lube,” Derek whispers, rubbing his face up the inside of his thigh, eyes locked on Stiles’ eager cock, big and flushed, so fucking beautiful he could weep.

Stiles shudders and gasps a bit, hand pressing against his head, pushing his face harder into his leg, biting his lip as Derek’s beard rustles against the pale, tender skin there. He does eventually reach back to grab the bottle from where he had tossed it on the bed. Derek lets Stiles pour some on to his hand, just enough to slick up his first two fingers. 

Turning slightly to make sure he’s not blocking the camera angle, he teases the head of Stiles’ cock, tip of his tongue darting into his slit as he presses a wet finger against his hole. “God, Derek,” Stiles huffs, leaning back on his hands, gorgeous, mole-dotted torso flexing as he tries to control the urgent little thrusts of his narrow hips. “Want you in me so bad,” he whines, spreading his legs wider.

Derek’s own cock jerks as he wraps his mouth around Stiles’, slowly sinking down on him while he pushes his finger farther in, that hot little hole gripping and pulling. His cock tastes incredible, rich and salty and perfect, and Derek can’t tease him anymore, loves this too much, needs so much more of him. 

He devours his dick, bobbing up and down eagerly, lips stretched wide and aching but he doesn't give a fuck, loves it in fact, drunk with the rush of getting to be with Stiles like this, getting to hear just how powerful his needful little pants and broken words of pleasure can be when he really means it, when he loves the man taking him apart. 

Derek pulls off his cock with a pop and a lick, sliding his fingers out too. “On your knees,” he orders with a smile, slapping his cute little ass. Stiles giggles and darts forward to kiss him, licking the taste of himself from his lips and moaning in delight before flipping over to his hands and knees, ass on display, soft, heavy balls hanging between his spread legs. The sight of Stiles like that, so close and exposed and just for him, the moment being recorded on camera for perpetuity, it all swirls together inside Derek, threatening to make him burst with soul-deep pleasure.

He mouths at those balls, leaving them shiny with his spit and Stiles’ precome before licking a sloppy path up to his hole, fingers darting back in to stretch him open so he can push his tongue in hard, pausing to relish the way Stiles clenches around it, ass twitching against his beard. “More, Derek, more…your fucking mouth, oh my god – “

Derek kinda regrets that his next move – shoving his tongue in as far as he can while sliding a finger all the way in to last knuckle – cuts off Stiles’ panted muttering, his head dropping to bite into his forearm. Derek’s cock is staring to throb with need, dying to get inside of him, but he’s fantasized about eating Stiles’ ass more times than he can count, so he’s going to enjoy it as long as his dripping dick can take it. He spits into him to slick him up more, rolling the taste of him around his mouth for a second before diving back in, ravishing him, each wet thrust of his tongue drawing the prettiest noises from where his mouth is still muffled into his arm. Derek’s pretty sure he’s making some noises of his own, the sloppy smack of his lips and tongue against his hole all tangled up in his own little groans at how fucking good he tastes, at how easily his body is opening for him.

He finally pulls his face away and replaces his tongue with a third finger, curving and scissoring to get him good and stretched. Derek’s more than average in size and he knows Stiles can take it, but he so badly wants to make this is perfect for him, wants to make sure he takes good care of him. Stiles is rutting back, shamelessly fucking himself on Derek’s hand, begging moans tumbling from his mouth. “Derek, please, I need you, come on, please get inside of me, need to feel you so bad.”

Derek can’t resist that, is compelled to give Stiles whatever he wants even when he’s not begging for it so sweetly. There’s a dark, perfectly round mole high on his left ass cheek, a tender little beauty mark Derek has wanted to kiss time and time again, chest aching with a dizzying burst of love when he does so now before slipping his fingers from him and reaching for the lube. He stands up and Stiles rises to his knees and twists back to kiss him, bottom lip red and dotted with little crescents from where he must have been biting at it. “No more of this,” Derek says, running his tongue over the grooves. “No more biting back your sounds. I want to hear every little noise I fuck out of you.”

That gets him a shuddering groan and a smile, long fingers reaching up to tangle in his hair and pulling him into a hard kiss. “Love you,” Stiles says, eyes big and wide, boring into his. With the hand not in his hair, Stiles helps him slick up his cock, fingers teasing at his foreskin.

“God, Stiles, I fucking love you so much,” he whimpers, brushing his swollen lips over the rough stubble on his cheek, closing his eyes against the rough sting on his sensitive mouth. “You ready for me,” he asks, voice raw, hands falling to his hips, gripping him tight.

Stiles just groans, like he can’t even deign to answer such a dumb question, making Derek grin and kiss his cheek one more time before turning him around, softly pushing him back to his hands and knees. 

He can’t fully wrap his head around the fact that he’s about to fuck Stiles, that he somehow gets to be the man who has the honor of sliding into his perfect body, might just be the last man to ever do so if he’s truly lucky, if he can make Stiles as happy as Stiles makes him.

Time seems to stand still for awhile as he spreads him open and presses in, achingly slow, eyes locked on where Stiles is taking him in so smoothly, so perfectly, like his ass was made just for Derek’s cock. It makes Derek wonder about how his own ass is going to take Stiles, and he has to stop and take a few steadying breaths so he doesn’t come right then and there at the thought.

He wants to fuck him every way he knows how, wants to discover firsthand what each and every possible stroke of his cock does to him, wants to learn all of the ways he can make him twitch and gasp and moan. He also just wants to fall over across his lovely back, wrap his arms around him and just hold on, buried deep to the hilt forever, covering him like a protective blanket, clutching him to his chest so he can never get away. 

Not that Stiles is trying to get away. No, he’s rocking back against him, urging Derek to push all the way in, ass clenching and fingers curling into the bedspread. Derek gives one final shove, broken exclamations of deeply-felt joy shaking from both of them, cock throbbing inside of him, lighting him up from the inside out as Stiles, impossibly tight, squeezes around him. Hands cupping his ass, Derek pulls out a bit, watches in wide-eyed bliss as he slides back in, pumps in and out a few times, thumbs tucked between his cheeks, pressing at where Stiles is stretched so elegantly, drowning in how good it feels, how utterly and inconceivably hot it is to watch his cock disappear into him.

Stiles is rolling his hips as he thrusts, urging him on with muttered words of encouragement punctuated by little gasps at each snap of Derek’s hips against his ass. The heat is building inside of him, roiling out from his cock and his belly, from his bones, his body giving in completely to it. He fucks him harder, faster, hands gripping tighter on his hips. He has the presence of mind to not hold him hard enough to bruise, but just barely, even though the image of Stiles’ hips haloed with purpling marks the shape of his fingers makes him groan, makes him squeeze his eyes shut as he ruts harder into him.

Derek puts one foot up on the bed, bracing himself to drive deeper, hauling Stiles closer with a quick pull. They’re angled a bit on the bed, and Derek knows the camera is getting a great shot of his cock sliding into him, can’t fucking wait to suck Stiles off while they watch this together later. Stiles is saying something, delicious little grunts and moans that sound like his name, but maybe also _more_ and _please_ and _you feel so fucking good_. He’s pounding into him fast, hard, his own moans losing shape as he breathes harder, chest starting to shine with exertion, Stiles’ round, perky ass cheeks mesmerizing as they bounce and shake with each powerful thrust Derek is giving him, trying to split him open, fill him up with how much he loves him.

He’s hit with the powerful urge to kiss him, to get his mouth back on him as he fucks him, so he lets his hands slide up from his hips to hook under his arms, pulling him up to stand on his knees on the bed. It changes the angle of his cock, letting Stiles settle even deeper onto him when he wraps his arms around his waist, pressing his sweaty back against his chest. “Fuck, Derek, yes,” Stiles pants, head falling forward as Derek mouths messily at his shoulders, his neck, his hair, whatever pieces of him he can get his mouth on. Derek’s still got one foot planted firmly on the bed, so he slides it over, hooks it inside Stiles’ knee, uses it to spread his legs more, making him sink down even farther onto his dick, drinking in greedily the high-pitched little wail that falls from Stiles’ panting, opening mouth. Derek bites at his earlobe, uses his arms around his narrow waist to tighten his grip on him and lift, shoving him back down hard onto his cock again and again, until Stiles’ eyes are watering and he’s keening, scrabbling to get his a hand on his bouncing cock.

Derek keeps one hand around his waist and uses the other to push Stiles’ away. “Mine,” he growls into his neck, fingers circling his dick, slick with precome, stroking as he continues to lift and drop him, thrusting up as Stiles sinks down. He can tell Stiles is close by the way he’s breathing, by the way his nails are digging into Derek’s forearm, his thigh as one hand reaches backwards to try and bring him deeper still. Derek’s close too, racing in a blurry frenzy, but he doesn't want it to end, not yet, never wants to not be inside of Stiles.

He moves quickly, still holding on tight to Stiles but slowing his movements enough so he can rearrange them, lifting him easily as he turns and sits on the bed, staying inside of him, settling him on his lap with his back still pressed to his chest. They’re both facing the camera now, Stiles straight on, red cock bouncing as he rides him. He twists back and wraps an arm around Derek’s neck, making him press his face against Stiles’ ribs, just barely visible under the pale, thin skin that he's desperately trying to mark up with beard burn. He licks up into his armpit, burying his face there and breathing in deep, mouth watering at the spicy-sweet smell of him, heart fluttering at the tickle of coarse hair against his closed eyes.

“Derek, gonna come,” Stiles whines, a sound that splits Derek into a million little pieces, it’s so heartbreakingly beautiful. He turns to rest his face against his ribs under his arm, looking down the ridged vista of his lightly-muscled abs. He gets his fingers back around him, jerking him fast as he thrusts up into him, giving him everything he has, body and mind in a single, buzzing focus, wanting only to feel Stiles fall apart on top of him so he can kiss him back together again.

For as noisy as he is, Stiles goes perfectly silent for a long moment when he comes, lithe body quivering, finally gasping heavily before crying out in a rumbling groan as he spills hotly over Derek’s hand, thick spurts that slide between his fingers, slicking him up so he can work him faster, tugging every last drop from him as his ass clenches tightly around Derek’s cock, the tight heat dragging hard as Stiles bucks and ruts through his orgasm.

He finally collapses back against him, body and limp and languid, laugh bubbling from his throat, husky and raw. “Oh my fucking god, Derek.” He sounds absolutely ruined, wrecked, and Derek fucking preens, hips still thrusting up into him, still chasing his own shuddering release, mouth and teeth pressed against the hard curve of his ribs.

Stiles stands then, making Derek whine as he slides out, hips still bucking up in search of him. Stiles drops to his knees on the floor where Derek had been earlier, long fingers wrapping around his aching cock, looking up at him while he leans down to lick at the tip before darting down further to take _both_ of his swollen, heavy balls in his wide mouth, suckling gently as he jerks him. It completely undoes Derek, body frenzied, tension building and boiling, lifting his hand to his face to lick Stiles’ come from his fingers, needing the the taste of him in his mouth.

Stiles seems to have a similar idea, because he pulls off his balls with a slurping pop and sits back on his heels a bit, red mouth open and waiting as he guides Derek’s dick towards it. His head slaps against his wet tongue and that’s it, that’s what pushes Derek over the edge, tension snapping and recoiling, body alight with burning, piercing pleasure. 

He can’t believe how powerful his thick bursts of come are, watching in rapacious bliss as he stripes his face. Stiles is moaning and stroking his own half-hard cock as he smiles, Derek’s come painting his tongue, licking his lips like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. Everything blurs a bit, everything but Stiles’ lovely face, eyes glowing dark amber and cheeks red, as Derek shudders and grunts through the aftershocks, Stiles still working his cock, tongue darting into his slit to lap him up.

Derek has the vague sensation of falling back on the bed, of Stiles moving away from him, but he’s too love-and sex-dumb to be much aware of anything for a while. He thinks he sees Stiles walk over to turn off the camera, and then he’s being moved, yanked gently up the bed until his head is resting on the pillows. He’s on his back still, Stiles’ warm body pressed against his side, fingers and come-sticky face pressed against his chest.

“Holy shit, dude. You better come up with a good fake name,” Stiles mumbles into his skin after awhile. Derek’s come back to himself a bit more but he’s still sleepy, too blissed out to really understand what he’s saying at first.

“Huh?” He reaches to further mess up Stiles’ hair, smiling at how goddamn adorable he is when it’s damp with sweat and sticking up in a hundred different directions, making him look somehow both wild and sweet.

“Your screen name,” Stiles answers. “It better be a good one, because you’re going to be insanely popular. You were made to fuck.”

“I was made to fuck _you,_ ” Derek corrects him, pulling him closer and up his body so he can kiss his blinding smile.

**Author's Note:**

> What should Derek's screen name be?! [Come say hi on Tumblr](http://deleted-scenes.tumblr.com/) and share your ideas!


End file.
